


We Were Always Loyal to Lost Causes

by TheXWoman



Series: Siren Song [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: An X-File Case, Angst, Animal Death, Complete, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Masturbation in Shower, Original Character(s), Philosophy, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, Talking, The Odyssey References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheXWoman/pseuds/TheXWoman
Summary: “But what are sea serpents if not the representation of that which can be explained but does not yet have an explanation?” She raised her eyebrows at him, coaxing him to clarify. “Ocean epics have been recorded since man figured out how to construct a boat. I can’t believe all those stories of gods and monsters and the wonders of uncharted territories is just the reflection of the disillusion with our mundane lives.”Scully pressed her cold lips together and licked the salty spray from them pensively. “I don’t know if it’s disillusion so much as fear, Mulder. The world is a big place and so much of lingers outside of our understanding. Maybe denoting the unknown to something dangerous, something we should fear, can help us accept that there are just some truths that will never be known to us.”“Or it just holds us back from seeking out those truths at all.”(This fic is complete)
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Siren Song [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148423
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	1. Seclusion

**Author's Note:**

> A follow-up to "Here Be Dragons."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had she really believed she could so easily extinguish them? Shackle the sensation of his reverential touch and heave it into the derelict mausoleum where she unrelentingly entombed every part of herself that dare draws in a gasp of contentment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “A man who has been through bitter experiences and traveled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time.”  
> \- Homer, The Odyssey

Air whistled through the cracked rubber seal of the passenger side window and Scully ground her teeth together. She gave up on her heels 45 minutes out of Fredericksburg and shoved them into the wheel-well, electing to curl her frosty toes in between the creaking vinyl and the warmth of her butt. An open case file sat in her lap, the paperclipped pages fluttering manically under the speed of the wind that came from Mulder’s open window.

“Can you close that?” she hissed, letting loose an over-dramatic shiver to punctuate her request. “It’s freezing in here.”

Mulder flicked a sunflower seed shell out the window before he rolled it up. The rental car was a pile of junk, she complained internally, and she now had the chance to enjoy the grating whistle of the wind in surround sound.

“You haven’t said anything in an hour, Scully.” Now that he lacked the distraction of his sunflower seeds, his thumb drifted to his mouth to seek a thoughtful nibble as he stared out at the road.

“Because this isn’t worth justifying with a response.” She flipped the case file shut. “If I’d known you were going to drag me to North Carolina to look for mermaids, I would have taken a sick day.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.” He shot her an intolerable grin and she slumped further into the seat. “Oh, come on. It’s the Outer Banks. Think of it as a beach holiday.”

“It’s February. You could have frozen my ass off in Ocean City for half the price of gas.” Her glare softened on the delicate catch of his lips in the sunlight, pliant as they closed around his thumb to worry away whatever barrage of thoughts toiled in that beautiful, exhausting brain of his. She stared too long and he noticed, but she managed to divert her gaze before he had the chance to meet it.

“Well, you read the file. What’s your take?”

“Other than it’s ludicrous?” She stared down at the manilla folder in her lap and the pads of her fingers raked against the edge of the reports. The scratching beat nearly brought some rhythm to the chaotic whistling windows. “Mulder, the very mythology of mermaids hinges on distant sightings and outward maliciousness towards sailors without any context to what culture or sociology would benefit from such behaviors. Even the basic biological concept of aquatic chimeras with substantial human features—which, by the way, are not at all fit for survival in the cold, high pressure, unforgiving environment of the ocean—doesn’t have a single basis in reality. Their very existence would be an affront to every method of evolutionary theory, and even if such a creature could exist—"

“Our persistent encroachment on their ecosystems combined with the dangers posed by boats and pollution and oil spills would have driven them so deeply into seclusion that on-shore sightings would be extremely rare if not entirely non-existent.”

She shuttered an offended sigh and risked a glare in his direction. Both of his hands were, blessedly, back on the steering wheel and away from his mouth, which now curved into a taunting smile. “If you knew what I was going to say, why did you even ask?”

“Because I like when we jive,” he replied, a lilt to his voice that dripped like warm honey. “Come on, Scully. You have to admit the potential for spotting an actual mermaid is pretty cool.”

“I’ll make sure to add that the idea is ‘pretty cool’ to our report.” Scully tossed the case file onto the dashboard and spooned to massage some heat into her frozen, nylon-clad toes.

“Well, the good folks of Nags Head are seeing something in the water and we’re lucky enough to get paid to find out what it is.” His gaze focused back over the steering wheel and onto the road, which seemed to stretch out for an eternity beyond them.

“I don’t even understand your interest in this. It’s a novice X-file, the kind of shit we might have bothered with five or six years ago. I can’t believe this is the most interesting thing that’s come through the office this week. Why are we doing this?”

The car vents shuddered a wave of lukewarm heat that did nothing to combat the chill clinging to her skin. Scully squirmed in her seat as she fought to find a comfortable position. 

“Guess I’m just feeling nostalgic,” Mulder eventually replied, but enough time had passed that it didn’t ring true.

\--

Three hours later, Scully stood on a dock – soaking wet, cold, and even more convinced they were wasting their time. A grey blanket of soppy clouds had tumbled inland and spit sheets of freezing darts over them. The cold worked so far down into her bones that no number of layers could stave it off.

“Saw her right there.” A withered old man, clad in a bright yellow slicker and curled over a cane, pointed one gnarled finger towards the dreary Atlantic. Mulder followed the gesture out to a jutting of rocks that barely peeked above the haze of fog. “She came up from the water, right in that spot, and floated there for a good five minutes, give or take.”

Scully tried to press herself closer to Mulder’s side as he held an umbrella over them. His bigger form continually blocked her out just enough that she was only halfway under, and drizzle gathered against the black dome and rolled into frigid streams that licked the lip of the umbrella before succumbing to the pull of gravity and landing directly onto her head. She pouted.

“And you didn’t think to grab a camera?” Mulder’s complete attention was on the witness, and Scully’s found some perspective in the knowledge that the poor old man was probably suffering far more than her in the rainfall.

“Why would I? I’m not the only one who’s seen her.”

Scully leaned forward, partially to look at him, but mostly in hopes to reclaim some coverage beneath the umbrella. “Can you describe what she looked like?”

“Well, water was pretty foamy.” His voice warbled and he cleared his throat thickly. “But I saw her tail when it lifted out of the water. Real long, and grey. And her head bobbed up a bit, too.”

“Did you see her face?” Scully hated that lift of optimism Mulder’s voice. It too often proved to be a harbinger of disappointment. 

“Not much past the spray. But I could see her dark hair. Gorgeous hair.”

“Like the little mermaid?” Scully inquired flatly.

“Older,” he said reflexively. But then he leaned into Mulder and lowered his voice enough that Scully suspected he genuinely was trying to make sure she couldn’t hear him. “But sexy as hell.”

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered through clenched teeth, to which Mulder elbowed her gently in the shoulder.

With the sun setting and the rain pelting down, even the resolute Mulder seemed disinterested in continuing to wander the water-logged shoreline. They got back to the car and made their way down the road to a scatter of tourist lodgings. Scully sat dreamily in the passenger’s seat, lost in the thoughts of the exquisite burn of a badly regulated water system followed by a welcome collapse into the rub of 250 thread count sheets. Yet, the car glided by the shadow of a Holiday Inn and concern settled in her face as Mulder turned down a side road and stopped next to a battered wooden sign that read “Sandy’s Bed and Breakfast.”

“Home sweet home away from home.” He shut down the car and turned to look at her. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to get us audited again.”

“Off-season rates, Scully. Come on.” He launched himself into the rain and sped to the trunk to gather their overnight bags. Scully braced for the wet chill and followed him obediently.

She did have to admit that the bed and breakfast was incredibly lovely. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace of the common room, cleaving an incandescent respite through the shadows that loomed through the windows. Mulder checked them into their rooms before joining her next to the fire, and she admired the yellow glow of the blaze licking in the reflection of his pensive eyes. He caught her gaze and they stilled for a moment, awash in a warmth that couldn’t be entirely attributed to the fire.

He fetched their bags and she followed him up the creaking colonial stairs towards the bedroom doors located side-by-side, adjacent to the bathroom they were going to have to share.

“I call the first shower,” Scully said as she nabbed her overnight bag from Mulder’s grasp. Her still-chilled skin brushed across his fingers and a searing glow made its way up her arm, embers warming her frozen limbs.

“It’s all yours.” He pulled away too quickly, and she wondered if he burned all the same. Scully tried to hide her trembling fingers as she fought the key into the doorknob of her room.

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

\--

The shower let forth a broiling stream that beat down on her shoulders. Her eyes drifted close and she breathed through the sensation of her flushing skin, her hair clinging to her cheeks, and the trails of water that spilled down her jaw and lingered on her chin before traveling down between her breasts. She conjured the image of him in the next room over, stripping his damp clothes from his body, and tried not to think about how far they were from home.

_Jesus, Dana, shut down that brilliant analytical mind for two minutes and let me fuck you._

She whimpered, thankful for the beat of the water against the porcelain tiles which so conveniently hid her longing. Her palm slid down her stomach, skin now blushing from more than the hot water, until her fingers brushed against the coils of course hair that rested between her hips. She intruded into that guarded place, the secret world she had only let him once explore, and found the peeking arousal that yearned for him.

Her movements quickened and she braced her free hand against the slick tile, her feet planted firmly against the slippery tub, her legs widening to give her room to focus her insurmountable need. Soon she absorbed herself into the fantasy of his fingers inside of her, his dripping body pressed to hers, a vision conjured from her dreams that kept them eternally connected. Her jaw fell slack, ribbons of water rushing across her face and clinging to her lips as she pleasured herself under the jutting streams. The heat and desperate movements of her hand combined with the mirage of his face hovering over hers took her to the edge and her orgasm gripped her body. She muffled a moan and ignited the bathroom with a cracking snap as her palm slammed against the tile. 

Once her trembling began to subside, Scully melted into the tub. The water cooled, pelting her back in sharp succession, a self-flagellation for her unforgivable cowardice.

She eventually pulled herself from the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Scully wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at herself. Her cheeks flushed in the afterglow of her own making, but her grey eyes were heavy, like the storm poised above the ocean only blocks away.

Had she really believed she could so easily extinguish them? Shackle the sensation of his reverential touch and heave it into the derelict mausoleum where she unrelentingly entombed every part of herself that dare draws in a gasp of contentment?

_Just go to him,_ she thought, unappreciative of the inner monologue she couldn’t control. _It’s time to grow up, Dana, and pretending it never happened is fucking juvenile._

Scully tied the waist of her bathrobe around herself and imagined how heavy his body would feel above hers as they guided each other in unison towards a temptation they both barely tasted.

_Just do it,_ the monologue demanded. _Just go to his door. You can do whatever you want to._

She grabbed her toiletries and walked out of the bathroom. Scully paused briefly before his bedroom door, her fist curling. She released a sigh, and with it the bravery she’d felt only moments ago evaporated into the still air. 

Clutching her robe, she turned around and went into her room, alone.


	2. Uncharted Territories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You grew up with a healthy respect for the ocean, Scully. Don’t you believe that there are things out there beyond the scope of our experiences, mysteries that we have no hope in uncovering in our lifetimes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Of the many things hidden from the knowledge of man, nothing is more unintelligible than the human heart.”  
> \- Homer, The Odyssey

The Nags Head Environmental Education Center was more rundown than Scully expected. The rain droplets shimmied down the dusty windowpanes and glimmered in the desolate shadow of the storm clouds rolling above the harbor. Her eyes traced the splintered frame to a crack in the plaster wall that spiraled right down to the separated molding where the bend of the information desk met it.

“It just doesn’t seem like much on an FBI matter is all I’m saying.” Scully keyed back to the conversation lazily. Sharda Stone, a demure woman of no more than 25, had readily introduced herself as the area’s premier conservationist and eco-educator. She had a mass of black hair kept miraculously pinned in a bun, but for a few stray spirals that formed perfectly in the humidity to frame her friendly face. Sharda’s nose twitched skeptically as she caught Scully’s eye, and the two women had a moment of pure and unspoken understanding before Mulder spoke.

“Our department specializes in these kinds of occurrences,” he said. Scully looked back to the window. “How long have these sightings been happening?”

“Not long. Three, maybe four weeks now.” Sharda moved around the desk and offered Mulder a well-worn clipboard that perched on the counter. “Sometimes people log in the weird stuff they see. They’re always coming in here asking questions. Which I’m fine with,” she added, her gaze flicking again to Scully, as if to defend both of their feigning interests. “But I’m a biologist, not a cryptozoologist. Mermaids aren’t exactly in my wheelhouse.”

Mulder accepted the clipboard and flipped through a few of the pages idly. “But you don’t think there’s any validity to what’s been reported?”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s validity to it, in a sense.” Sharda crossed her arms across her chest, blowing one of those perfect spirals from her eyes with a purse of her lips. “But the fact of the matter is, Agent Mulder, it’s the off-season. People are bored.”

“We spoke to a local earlier today, a…” Mulder pulled his notebook out of his jacket and flipped it open to scan the intelligible scratches angled down the pages. He took notes so infrequently that Scully started to assume that, when he did, it was mostly for show. As if calling on his eidetic memory would somehow alienate interviewees more than a glance at his incomprehensible chicken scratch. “Kyle Howser? He claims to have seen it multiple times.”

Sharda cleared her throat as she fished the clipboard back from Mulder’s hands. “I don’t want to sound dismissive, but most of the time Kyle isn’t exactly…”

“A reliable witness?” Scully offered.

“’Sober’ was the word I was looking for,” Sharda admitted. “But I guess that works, too.”

Mulder tucked his notebook back into his jacket as his pout curved into a frown. “And what’s your take on it? As a biologist.”

“Well, I can’t give you a straight answer having not seen it myself.” Scully’s pondered on the litany of things Sharda would probably rather be doing than having this conversation, which only led her to thoughts about what she would rather be doing. The consideration was badly timed with a glance at Mulder’s unhappy mouth, his lips slightly damp and shiny in the glow of the luminescence above them. Scully worried her own lip with her teeth.

“But it’s not like the Outer Banks is want for traditional marine life,” Sharda continued, and Scully concentrated on her so she wouldn’t be tempted to look at Mulder anymore. “During the summer I could give you a pretty long list of realistic alternatives. Truth be told, I’m just as interested in what they’re seeing as you are.”

Mulder pulled his business card from his pocket and flipped it over to write out the name of the bed and breakfast and his room number in his barely legible hand. “Give me a call if you hear anything else.”

“Of course.” Sharda sounded as relieved as Scully felt to see the end of the conversation.

The rain let up ever so slightly when they went outside. The bite in the air hadn’t abated, however, and Scully pulled her jacket closer to her body to hide a shiver. Mulder shifted next to her and her heart stilled for a moment, sure that he was about to wrap his arm around her. When she finally dared to glance at him, however, he was staring solemnly out at the grey waters beyond them.

“You’re not going to hope it into existence, Mulder.” She positioned herself at an angle next to him, hopeful that he would block the rush of the wind. “And you’re not talking me into a mermaid stake-out in this weather.”

“You grew up with a healthy respect for the ocean, Scully. Don’t you believe that there are things out there beyond the scope of our experiences, mysteries that we have no hope in uncovering in our lifetimes?”

“Of course I do.” She pulled her arms around herself tighter but resisted the urge to move towards the car. She wouldn’t stand with him in the rain for hours, but she didn’t have any intention of leaving him alone to brood in his existential crisis, either. “But within reason and rooted in scientific fact. Not based on sea serpents inked onto the unexamined corners of ancient maps.”

“But what are sea serpents if not the representation of that which can be explained but does not yet have an explanation?” She raised her eyebrows at him, coaxing him to clarify. “Ocean epics have been recorded since man figured out how to construct a boat. I can’t believe all those stories of gods and monsters and the wonders of uncharted territories is just the reflection of the disillusion with our mundane lives.”

Scully pressed her cold lips together and licked the salty spray from them pensively. “I don’t know if it’s disillusion so much as fear, Mulder. The world is a big place and so much of lingers outside of our understanding. Maybe denoting the unknown to something dangerous, something we should fear, can help us accept that there are just some truths that will never be known to us.”

“Or it just holds us back from seeking out those truths at all.”

The wind whipped her hair from her face and Scully had the feeling that they weren’t talking about sea serpents anymore.

\--

Mulder sat on his bed and toed off his shoes while he rubbed a towel through his hair. Far since given up on being or staying dry, Scully discarded her coat on the back of the desk chair and hoped that it wouldn’t drip a water stain onto the threadbare carpet.

“I just don’t think we should completely discount literal centuries of historical eyewitnesses.” He’d been arguing with her the entire drive back to the bed and breakfast, and Scully lazily considered crafting a garrot out of dental floss and tampon applicators just to get him to shut up.

“Mulder, mermaid sightings are so situationally specific that they can’t in good conscious be corroborated. We’re talking about exhausted men corralled into tight quarters for extremely long periods of time striving to identify something they might see at a great distance through waves and fog. At best, it’s folklore. At worst, it’s a masturbatory fantasy derived from the need to visually sexualize perceived variables to fulfill instinctual urges denied to them in isolation.”

“Masturbatory?”

“It’s sexist, Mulder.” She placed her hands on the back of the chair and looked at herself in the mirror. She found no comfort in the fact that she looked just as exhausted as she felt. “You are not seriously suggesting there is credence to the concept of half-naked fish women luring men with promises of sex to result in plowing their ships into the rocks.”

“That’s a misnomer, Scully.” She knew that tone, that dipping octave that made way for a stream of consciousness hell-bent on contradicting whatever she’s said in the name of technicality. “The idea of mermaids as seductresses is rooted in the Christianization of what was considered heathenistic beliefs. In all likelihood, mermaids are the legendary decedents of sirens, whose calls were not characterized by sex but in fact temptation, however that may actualize to the ears of the men subjected to it. They promised Odysseus wisdom – a far cry from carnal pleasures.”

She saw him watching her in the mirror and she turned to look at him, and her body released a wave of tension towards his self-impressed smirk. 

“Well, you’d be the expert on carnal pleasures, Mulder.” He stood up and closed in on her, and she didn’t pull away. He towered over her and his fingers lifted to toy with the corner of her blouse, pinching the fabric beneath his fingers as he peeled it gently away from her skin. His breath beat against her and she yearned for that heat, to blanket herself in it and soothe the ache that permeated her bones.

“And how would they tempt you?” he whispered. “With empty promises of unbridled knowledge sure to feed your endless rationality?” His lips hovered inches from her ear, spitting hot embers that drifted down to her very core. “Or something a little more provocative?”

“The only one being provocative right now is you,” she wheezed. Scully started to unbutton his shirt and he loosened hers in turn, stiff fingers seeking the heat of her skin through the mutual pull of their need. “Did you drag me across two states just to sleep with me again?”

Mulder pulled away to shed his shirt and she finished unbuttoning her own, their eyes locked and wild as a feral urge snapped the cables of their already perilous lucidity. He violently lurched the chair away from the desk and grabbed her hips to lift her, to perch her ass on the edge of the table as he settled between her legs. His lips fell to her neck, his hair tickling her cheek as he busied his mouth against her flushed skin while his hands sought a warmth that lay lower, splayed against her abdomen as he slipped his fingers into the hem of her pants.

Scully gasped and lifted her hips to meet his touch. Her hands gripped his shoulders desperately as he brushed his fingertips into her rising heat. Then he slipped them inside of her, gliding easily along her slick skin as his thumb circled the center of her arousal. Waves of ecstasy rolled against her skin and she mewled wantonly, her eyes closed to block out everything but the inexorable thrusts of his fingers inside of her.

“Come on, Scully,” he murmured into her neck, one hand braced against her heaving back as his other explored the deepest recesses of her pleasure. “Come for me.”

She did quickly, with an explosive whine, his name a half-word that tumbled across her lips over and over until the world drifted back into a sobering focus. His hand rose to rest on her stomach and his slickened fingers brushed against her quivering skin. Her gaze locked onto his and she felt the storm hidden behind those hazel depths and how desperately he yearned to cling from her lips. They were entranced, Scully’s lips parted as she fought to catch her breath in the onslaught he’d so suddenly brought down upon her. Mulder tilted towards her, slowly filling the gap between them, his lips so close to her own that she could feel his breath brushing across her waiting tongue.

The phone rang.

Scully turned her head away and he collapsed into her neck to release a deflated moan. She stared at the phone, her heart stranded somewhere between devastation and relief, and she jumped when it rang shrilly once again.

“God damn it,” Mulder muttered. Scully disentangled herself from his embrace and picked up the receiver, clearing her throat, but her breathy “hello” sounded like she hadn’t sipped water in years.

“Agent Scully?” The voice sounded surprised, and Scully winced. She’d forgotten this was Mulder’s room, not hers.

“Um, yeah, this is she.” Mulder stared at her sheepishly, having only remembered the same thing.

“It’s Sharda. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but something happened you’re going to want to see.”


	3. Dry Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking about what happened in his room risked bridging the rift between them. Scully hovered apprehensively at his door, grasping for a conclusion. But this case, like the ones before it, offered no satisfying resolution. With every disappointment, Mulder willingly wove a death shroud which her aching touch steadily unraveled in the cover of darkness, with the lingering knowledge that the rise of the sun would start it all anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say  
> that we devise their misery. But they  
> themselves- in their depravity- design  
> grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.”  
> \- Homer, The Odyssey

Both Sharda and Scully were correct – Kyle Howser was both an unreliable witness _and_ not sober. His leg propped on a bench in the waiting room of the Environmental Education Center, a harried medic wrapped gauze slowly around his bleeding foot. His slurred whines echoed down the sagging plaster walls.

“Just explain what happened.” Mulder crouched next to the bench, his damp coat sweeping against the worn tile. Neither of them made time to change clothes before rushing back out into the persistent storm, and Scully’s pants felt distractingly loose around a dampness that embarrassingly lingered.

“I told Sherry,” he slurred. Scully offered the other woman an apologetic look, as if that could make up for Kyle’s clear disregard for her name. “Saw her tail flapping there in the water, so I waded out. It wasn’t that far but she grabbed me and dragged me right under. Thought I was gonna die, right there, my life flashed before my eyes and everything.”

 _It must have been one confusing life drowning in those beer goggles,_ Scully thought.

Sharda walked the line between exhausted and irate since Mulder and Scully had arrived. “Kyle, you know not to approach or touch the wildlife. You’re lucky the worst coming out of this is a scratch and a fine.”

“Wasn’t my fault!” he shouted, and the poor medic flinched next to him. “I know better than to walk out there in a storm, I ain’t that drunk.” Kyle’s heavy-lidded eyes flashed to Mulder. “But she was calling me, man. I could hear her voice telling me to walk right out there. Told me I was fucking invincible! Then I feel this grip around my ankle and—BAM!” He hit the bench dramatically with the palm of his hand and the medic just about lost his balance, reaching out to steady himself on the floor.

Scully walked away and Mulder cornered her near a display of informational flyers slotted into a yellowing plastic display. From the looks of things, it didn’t seem like Nags Head had a lot of interest in environmental education.

“You saw the same thing I did, Mulder. It’s a bite. Probably from a shark.”

“Scully, there hasn’t been a shark attack here in years. What are the chances of it happening now?”

Sharda sidled up to them, her presence unsolicited but also not unwelcome. “Agent Mulder’s not wrong,” she conceded, and Scully suddenly wished she hadn’t intruded at all. “That said… I have to agree with Agent Scully. It is very clearly a bite.” Scully rolled back her indignation.

“But it’s winter. Sharks migrate to warmer waters, don’t they?”

“Yes,” Sharda said hesitantly. “But we occasionally get stragglers, usually females too exhausted from birthing to make the journey.”

“Sherry,” Kyle slurred from his spot on the bench. “I think the mermaid stole my keys. How’s I supposed to drive home with no keys?”

“You’re not going to, that’s how.” Sharda offered the agents a tormented look before she departed their company and wandered back to console the injured man who, by all accounts, should be spending the night dumped in the drunk tank.

“She deserves better than that,” Scully pointed with her chin as Sharda kindly placed a hand on Kyle’s sopping wet shoulder. “Imagine slugging your way through a science degree to end up scraping lunatics off the floor of a dilapidated building at two in the morning.”

“It seemed to work out okay for you.”

Scully’s face softened as she turned to face him. She enjoyed the affectionate gaze of his eyes tenderly brushing along her skin. “Yeah, well, you tend to keep your lunacy to work hours.”

They betrayed each other a gentle smile before Mulder snuck in a suffering sigh. “Is this what’s going in our report, Scully? A bunch of bored townies harassing a shark?”

“It’s what we have. And I can’t in good conscience encourage you to keep going with this. Not every X-file exists in the grey, and this one is pretty black and white.”

He bristled and her heart flooded with a strange wash of attrition. Scully wasn’t sure why—usually Mulder’s more ridiculous and unsubstantiated theories left her neutral—but this one seemed so overly personal she wasn’t sure how to feel.

He nabbed one of the flyers behind him for a restaurant with a bright green logo. “At least on the way out of town we can grab a bite at…” He looked at it again, his nose wrinkling. “Crabbin’ Up the Beach.”

“Delightful,” Scully muttered. 

\--

Thinking about what happened in his room risked bridging the rift between them. Scully hovered apprehensively at his door, grasping for a conclusion. But this case, like the ones before it, offered no satisfying resolution. With every disappointment, Mulder willingly wove a death shroud which her aching touch steadily unraveled in the cover of darkness, with the lingering knowledge that the rise of the sun would start it all anew.

Mulder attempted a neutral “Goodnight,” but her hand reached out to stay him. He stared down at her as she snaked past his hand and opened the door to his room. Her grip fixed in place and she pulled him with her into the abyss. 

She shook off her blouse and threw it onto the floor before she pulled him to her. At the same time, his hands pushed down her pants, wrestling her out of them before he cupped her hip and dragged her towards him. Mulder’s mouth dropped to her shoulder and he caught her skin beneath his teeth. He bit her harder than she thought he intended, but she allowed his brutality and reveled in the way her skin depressed beneath his boldness.

She deftly unbuttoned his pants, her hand sliding down to grasp him, to coax forward his want for her. He whimpered into the curve of her neck and the stiffening of him within her palm only reinforced his desperation.

Mulder pulled away to unbutton his shirt, working at it feverishly as she paused the roam of her hands to push his pants down his legs. He shook them off his ankles as he shed his shirt. Then he pushed her against the wall to rake his tongue across her cold skin, exploring her until he reached the rippled lace of her bra, forcing her shoulder strap down just enough to unleash one of her heaving breasts and capture the nipple in his mouth to roam his tongue around it. Her head hit the wall and she pushed her fingers through his hair, gripping him, holding on for dear life as he claimed her arching body.

She stripped out of her underwear and Mulder grasped her hips and pulled her up. She wrapped her exhausted legs around his waist as he stumbled in the dark to the bed to sink with her in his lap, his mouth tracing across her collarbone. She pushed him down onto the bed and rested her hips against his, her palm splayed against his chest. His heartbeat hammered against her hand and she convinced herself she was doing this for him, to distract him from the disappointment of his search by offering a warm body to cling to. His hips rose to meet hers, now fully aroused. She wasn’t quite ready for him but need surmounted her biology and she angled her hips to take him in slowly. He keened in surprise as his head fell into the bed.

“Scully…” he bit back another moan and let it rumble in his throat, encompassing the room. She sunk deeper with every deliberate roll of her hips until she engulfed him. She moved in a calculated rhythm as his body rose to meet hers while his mouth let loose a barrage of muffled curses and cries.

It wasn’t slow this time, no exploration of each other’s curves and dips with excruciating adoration. This was the inescapable pull of an improbable promise. His hand gripped her hip, fingers digging ferociously into her yielding flesh, his other hand shaping her breast as he flicked his thumb over the rise of her nipple. She didn’t fight the pressure building within her and welcomed it as it washed through her veins, unleashing her climax through rippling waves of pleasure.

Scully dropped her head and pressed their foreheads together, the curls of her hair whipping against his cheeks, and she pulled him into her undertow effortlessly. Mulder cried out as he came, burying himself into her, his body twisting as he stared into the swirling ocean of her furious eyes. It was only when his moans turned to heaving pants that she finally stilled above him, her body melting into his, and she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

His hands found her shoulders and mapped the curves of her shape as he searched for her in the shadows. The sensation of falling petrified her quivering body as she focused on his plump pout and how she coveted any other lips that had found his before her own. She welcomed the desperate drop of her heart that sobered her and pushed herself off him. Then she fled, stumbling in the dark towards their abandoned pile of clothes. Mulder sat up and watched her shrug on her shirt and underwear as she rolled her remaining clothes into a ball with her fists.

“Scully, come on,” he whispered. He didn’t move from the bed, though, his face cast in unreadable shadow. “Don’t do this again.”

She turned her back on him and pulled open the door. The light of the hallway spilled a golden pathway that led straight back to his bed. Her mind wandered back to the call of Kyle’s mermaid and the song of Odysseus' sirens, spitting false promises from the black voids of their captivating mouths.

As she vanished into the hall, she wondered how much more it would take to drag Mulder down with her into watery ruin.

\--

Even with the case at a logical conclusion, they weren’t in a rush to leave the Outer Banks beneath the harrowing weather. By the time noon rolled around and she hadn’t seen a single sign of Mulder anywhere, Scully conceded to a wasted day.

Donned in a comfortable sweater and slacks, she headed downstairs to melt in front of the fire. Scully knew her time was better spent finishing her report so she wouldn’t have to deal with it back in DC, but her eyes roved the bookshelf instead. She landed on a beaten copy of Ulysses nestled between a North Carolina travel guide and an equally as well-worn harlequin paperback.

Once she tenderly extracted the book from its dust-laden cubby, she sunk back down on the couch and skimmed the pages. Its illusive prose conjured the thoughts of the pull to the familiar, wrapped around life, death, clandestine affairs, and disillusionment. Yet, she found herself enamored with the text, her eyes roving quick succession, like the faithless seeking clarity in a holy book.

Her eyes paused for a moment and she breathed out a whisper.

“We were always loyal to lost causes.”

The front door of the bed and breakfast blew open and Sharda pushed in from the storm, her hood up to protect her hair from the beat of the rain, and her eyes roamed the room before landing on Scully.

“Sorry to barge in, but I was hoping to catch you before you skipped town.”

Scully smiled lazily and stretched out her arm to the couch to offer passage. Sharda hung her coat by the door and collapsed with a content sigh as she stared into the crackling fire.

“The storm is supposed to get worse this afternoon, so we’re not leaving until tomorrow.”

“Smart plan.” Sharda moved her eyes from the fire and settled on the book in Scully’s hand. “Good afternoon reading material?”

“Mulder’s brought up the Odyssey a couple of times.” She closed the book and shifted it in her hand. “The selection is limited and it’s about as close as I could get.”

“Not really the same thing though, right?”

Scully resigned to a laugh. “Not really. But not useless, I guess.” She draped her hand across the back of the couch and looked up the stairs. “If you’re looking for Mulder, I’m not sure where he is. I haven’t seen him all day.”

“I was actually hoping to find you.” Sharda sounded almost sheepish.

Scully raised her eyebrows. “Any reason?”

“Just something bothering me. Kyle. I know he was wasted, but he was so convinced that something was calling him out to the water. When he drinks he gets hammered, but he’s got a decent enough head on his shoulders. I guess I need a voice of reason to talk some sense into me.”

“You’re wondering if it’s possible he did encounter a mermaid?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a mermaid pulled him under. Maybe it was uncharacteristic curiosity. People are unpredictable. Makes more sense than a seductive mermaid calling him out there, right?”

“Seduction comes in many forms,” Scully replied, nearly mirroring the tone of Mulder’s fervent elaboration. “The ocean is a continual unknown and maybe part of him has always sought to explore the mystery, embrace it. Enough drinks in someone can cloud their judgment.”

“Or show their true character.”

A drunk man, pawing at the darkness of the deep at his own expense. It struck Scully how he effortlessly yielded to a fearlessness she lacked.  
What if her sirens were promising her the safety of the known? Or even worse, what if she was siren herself? Luring Mulder with misleading promises that would only pull him, too, into the desolation of her loneliness. Dry drowning, she thought. Insidious in its delayed and unexpected danger.

“Sorry to bother you about this,” Sharda said.

Scully shook her head. “You’re not a bother.” It was a genuine comment, and they spoke for a while about their lives, educational experiences, and personal discoveries. They avoided any talk of that which they did not fully understand.

\--

Mulder finally appeared at about the time Scully had succumbed to the harlequin, and she was embarrassed for him to find her reading it. He was in one of his manic phases, though, fixated on completing their report so they wouldn’t have to deal with it the next day, annoyed with wasting time under the incessant patter of the storm.

They returned to her room, and an hour later Scully sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop perched perilously on a pile of books she’d borrowed from the common room in hopes of relieving her angry back from hours of stooping. Mulder paced thoughtfully next to her, and she could swear he’d been chewing on the same sunflower seed for the last twenty minutes.

“I can’t concentrate when you do that,” she sighed. Scully leaned back and stretched out one of her aching legs, bending her toe to illicit a relieving pain that ignited from her Achilles and up the back of her calf. She could have moved to the more comfortable desk, but it was identical to the one in Mulder’s room. Sitting at it would only remind her of his hands down her pants and the tremors that wracked her body.

“I can’t help it. You’re adorable, curled up like that.” She gave him a sideways look and found him staring at her. His mouth chewed at the sunflower seed absentmindedly and his pensive eyes locked into hers, trapping her in a hypnotic gaze that crackled life into her aching bones. It took her a moment to realize she’d stopped breathing.

“It’s late and we should get some sleep. I can finish this in the morning.” She snapped the laptop closed and slowly spidered out of the bed. The exhaustion she felt in her limbs crawled its way into her heart as he hovered where he stood, letting her unintentionally fill the gap between them as she hoped to usher him out the door.

“Scully…” He dropped his hand from his mouth and discarded the seed into the nearby ashtray. His gentle fingers captured her waist easily. Scully looked away from him, seeking out a less dangerous target, landing on a paint-by-numbers of the seaboard that hung over the light switch.

“Mulder...”

“I think we should talk about what happened last night.” His other hand drifted to her cheek, tucking a strand of her hair delicately behind her ear. “What keeps happening.”

“I can’t do this.” Her tone was sharp, lancing against the walls of the room and bouncing through the exposed rafters, louder than she intended. He shied away from her, his stilled hand falling, grasping her wrist gently within his palm.

“You mean you don’t want to.” His tone weighed heavy with a burden she couldn’t justify. “I know I promised not to push you, but I need something, Scully. Anything. Because I can’t keep going like this.”

She wanted to scream at him that it wasn’t her fault. His pull to her made her breath catch and her eyes ache and her heart quiver in fear and denying the flutter in her stomach made it all the worse.

The words wouldn’t form coherently on her lips, though, and she felt his grip around her wrist tightening, cold waves of anger rippling over his body to awash her with a fear that was too familiar to her own.

“Is this all you want?” He shifted his head to look at her and she peered at him from the corner of her eyes, her head ducked in agony. “I don’t want to believe you are content with slipping into my room like a shadow and leaving before the day can confront you with your sins.”

“It’s not about that.” Her anger bubbled to the surface. The accusation that her need for him was a sin. Her Catholic upbringing may have angled it as much, but she’d left that burden behind long ago. His body felt right pressed flush against hers, his lips seeking that which she was not ready to give him, even though they both knew it was where they belonged. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He pulled her wrist to him firmly, lurching her forward, forcing her to meet his eye. “I never asked for more. But you’re fixated on the obsessive compartmentalization of your entire life and you’re scrabbling for a corner to shove me into. But you know I won’t fit, Scully. We’ve been a part of each other for too long.” She felt the churn of a sea squall in her own eyes, but it was no match for the violent wildfire that burned in his. “Fucking you is just a goddamned formality.”

She felt frozen in place, crushed under the grip of his unwavering stare. His hand tightened, but the real pain was what curled around her heart. She prayed for survival, her eyes caught in the headlights, the struggle in her chest invisible.

“Mulder, you’re hurting me.”

He let her go instantly and stepped back from her, averting his gaze in shame. He left the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Scully stood in the middle of the floor for a long time, gripping her wrist phenomenally tighter than he had as if physical pain could outweigh the writhing ache inside her. She was almost hopeful that he might return, but the reality was he left her adrift, alone, in a churning storm of her own making.


	4. Sisyphus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much of the fight they found within the X-files was out of their hands, but their search still made them complicit in that ceaseless journey.
> 
> _You were right to want to leave me. You should get as far away from me as you can._
> 
> But she hadn’t left, and they continued to religiously map their lives with calamitous grief. She, too, wanted to blame it all on the iniquitous hand fate dealt them, but she didn’t believe in fate. 
> 
> However, she did believe in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “But if you only knew, down deep, what pains are fated to fill your cup before you reach that shore.”  
> \- Homer, The Odyssey

The call came in at 4 pm. Sharda’s gentle cadence, broken by the gaps and crackles of a badly connected line, called them once again to the shoreline. 

Once they arrived Mulder rushed ahead of her, his long legs struggling through the sand, and even in her considerably more comfortable sneakers, she couldn’t keep up. When he came to a halt she nearly careened into his back, clutching his forearm to steady herself, and his hand shot out to gently cradle her waist. She looked up at his face first, her eyes greedily poised to drink in the first glow of discovery. But his eyes were somber coals, devoid of any hopeful curiosity, and she followed his gaze to a dark mound languishing upon the sand. Onlookers and conservationists alike huddled in cold reverence around it.

It was a shark. Small, barely the length of Scully’s height, although it was hard to tell from their safe distance away. Her eyes sought through the handful of people wearing orange vests and found Sharda, crouched dangerously close. As if she felt Scully’s gaze on her back, the woman stood up and made her way towards them.

“Your mermaid,” she said solemnly. Her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and it was clear she found no triumph in the implied I told you so. “It’s been dead a few hours. Some of the locals came across it while walking their dog.”

“Oh my God,” Scully whispered. The overwhelming stench of salt air mixed with the stagnant anti-climactic disappointment that radiated from Mulder. Oh, how long ago their souls had woven a tapestry that told their story more vividly than words ever could.

The poor animal lay empty beneath the fading winter day. Ambient light glossed delicately over the grey skin. A dark line traced its body like a mockery of a chalk outline. The dorsal fin peeked out a brilliant shock of black – the hair that the gnarled seaman no doubt glimpsed beneath the waves. Scully spent so much of her adult life surrounded by the lifeless, staring down at what remained of them, drained of the life they once held. Shutting away the grief of a lost soul was necessary for the job, but some cases still hung heavy in the folds of her brittle heart. For no reason she could explain, she felt like this would be one of them. “Any idea what happened?”

“We won’t know until an autopsy,” Sharda mused. “If we even get funding for one.” She didn’t look at Mulder’s face, as afraid to confront what she may find there. “Hell of a way to end your case, huh?”

The setting sun seemed to break through the clouds long enough to alight the lumped form with a brilliant halo. The Heavens, Scully thought, shepherding home another soul whose time had come. Sharda nodded goodbye and headed back to the group, her shoulders slumped in shadow.

“Come on, Mulder,” Scully murmured, cupping his elbow with her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

\--

A warm shower brought her no relief. Her thoughts lingered on his face, and how prominent the lines around his eyes and mouth seemed under the unfavorable setting sun.

He hadn’t said a word on the drive back. He simply faded like a phantom up the creaking stairs, grains of shimmering sand clinging to the carpet the only proof of his surmount. She’d watched him from the check-in desk, her heart aching to follow, her legs refusing to cooperate.

She imagined him in his room, damp clothes and dirty shoes dusting the white sheets of the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if he could burrow through it and scream at the gods he claimed he didn’t believe in. To bestow his lost cause on something that it didn’t belong to.

So much of the fight they found within the X-files was out of their hands, but their search still made them complicit in that ceaseless journey.

_You were right to want to leave me. You should get as far away from me as you can._

But she hadn’t left, and they continued to religiously map their lives with calamitous grief. She, too, wanted to blame it all on the iniquitous hand fate dealt them, but she didn’t believe in fate. 

However, she did believe in him.

\--

When she knocked on his door and he opened it to her, his guarded eyes examining her from top to bottom. Mulder looked anything but pleased to see her.

“I’m not in the mood, Scully.”

“That’s not why I’m here.” 

They stood in a stalemate. He eventually relented, sucking in a breath as he opened the door and let her slip inside. When she faced him, he embraced his inevitable loss with a grasp against her shoulders to pull her against his body. His nose nestled against her ear she found herself waiting for him to crumble beneath her longing and roam his hands across her body to pull them down into the waiting waves of a passion that could let them forget, for just a moment.

But he didn’t caress her. He just held her, quietly and solemnly, as the patter of rain hit the antique windows like falling tears.

“I’m lost, Mulder.” Her whisper filled the room like a song, and she felt the brush of his lips against her cheek. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

“Then let me help you find your way,” he replied. She shook her head and looked up at him, her heart crashing in her chest as he pressed his hand to her cheek. 

“I never meant to make it this hard.”

“Not everything is your fault, Dana. You’re not the only one making decisions. I’m just as much a part of it. I’m allowing this to happen to us.”

“Because I keep coming back.”

“And because I keep praying you won’t leave.” Her chin quivered as she fought back threatening tears. Mulder’s life revolved around the truths he so brazenly grasped, hanging onto them until they were wrenched violently from him, leaving him adrift once again. And Scully had sought him out, only to deny him just as ruthlessly. His forlorn expression only solidified his resignation. Sisyphus, rolling the stone up the hill with the knowledge that his toil would eternally end in the same defeat.

She realized her fingers were digging into his arm, gripping him with a strength she didn’t realize she was capable of. His hand slipped from her cheek and rested on her neck, his thumb tracing the rise of her throat.

“Scully, you’re hurting me.”

A tear chased down her cheek and she released herself from him. The rain started down heavy again, pinging against the windowpanes in a damning onslaught, rippling in the light as she left his room.

\--

She wanted to visit the Education Center one more time, alone. Sharda busied herself with some printouts behind the counter, but Scully was sure she saw a wash of relief on the other’s woman’s face when she entered.

“You need a few more soundbites for your big FBI report?”

Scully chucked. “That’s not really how it works.”

“That’s too bad because I have a lot to say.” Sharda moved around the desk and gestured to one of the benches. They sat in front of a giant informational board that explained the Outer Banks’ common wildlife. A bloated fish with a cartoony smile sat under a speech bubble. “Marine animals can be fragile or dangerous,” it exclaimed in bright red letters. ‘’Please don’t touch!”

Sharda shifted next to her. “Unless you’re looking for an autopsy follow up. Poor thing is getting shipped down to an aquatic center in Charlotte, so you’ll have to call them.”

“I think your expertise is enough,” Scully offered, and Sharda gave her a thankful smile.

“How’s your partner holding up? He looked more devastated than my team did.”

“We’re used to this,” she said. “These cases usually aren’t what they look like.”

“He looked miles away from used to it, if you don’t mind me saying.” Sharda examined Scully with her wide, dark eyes. “I get him, but I don’t know why you’re here, honestly. Agent Mulder strikes me as the persuasive type, but you don’t seem like the kind of person to suffer fools.”

“He suffers me.” Scully watched the meaningful look cast a shadow over Sharda’s face. _Maybe it’s obvious,_ she thought. _Maybe it’s always been obvious. To everyone but me._ “Do you think things exist that can’t be explained by conventional science? Creatures lurking in dark places we can’t begin to comprehend?”

__“I don’t believe there is anything that truly contradicts science. But you know as well as I do that science is always changing. There are always new and miraculous discoveries. That’s what makes this line of work interesting.”_ _

__Scully’s eyes roved over the variety of information in front of them, blurbs about mating rituals and migration paths, and wondered how often Sharda had to go through the effort to update that board._ _

__“You know, there’s a theory that the word for the color blue didn’t exist until recent history,” Sharda mused. “When he’s traveling home, Odysseus calls the ocean the ‘wine-dark sea.’ Blue, obviously. Grey, on days like this. But wine? Weird choice.”_ _

__“I suppose it’s in our nature to put a name to things we can’t define. It makes it familiar to us even in its mystery.”_ _

__“So maybe it’s the same with all that other stuff. Epics about ships being torn apart by monsters justify why people disappear at sea. It gives meaning to what is an otherwise meaningless loss.”_ _

__“It’s misleading,” Scully sighed. “In Mulder’s case, it gives him false hope. Fiction and history end up too intertwined.”_ _

__“’Poets are not to blame for how things are,’” Sharda recited. Scully raised her eyebrows and the other woman shrugged. “I read it for an English pre-requisite. I don’t remember most of it, but I always liked that line.” She tilted her head and smiled. “I was always more of a Moby Dick fan.”_ _

__They sat together for a while longer before a reluctant goodbye. Scully liked Sharda a lot, she decided. It was a damn shame she’d probably never see her again._ _

__\--_ _

__Scully had been convinced the storm would never disperse, but the morning ushered a deceptively blue sky. She found Mulder sitting on the rocks, his black dress shoes settled into the sand, a vacant expression in his eyes as he gazed out over the water. Scully sunk on the rock next to him, chasing his gaze into the vast nothingness. His passion for these mysteries lay in the unexplained – hers in the unexplored. But they shared a yearning for the truth, a base value that connected them inexorably._ _

__Mulder shifted next to her, pressing his shoulder to hers, and she took his hand._ _

__“I’m sorry about your mermaid, Mulder.” He grunted something between a laugh and a scoff, and she frowned. “I’m serious. My rationally doesn’t make me insensitive to your disappointment.”_ _

__“Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, plainly. She paled in turn._ _

__“Mulder…”_ _

__“I don’t mean having sex with me. I know you well enough to understand why that keeps happening.” Regardless, his clarity still carried an air of anger. “I mean why are you still on the X-files with me? Why do you stick around just to watch while every discovery we make leads us right back to where we started?”_ _

__She sighed but did him the courtesy of thinking through her answer. He deserved that much. “Because I share your hope. That there’s an end to all of this. And there’s some comfort in not facing it alone.”_ _

__He weaved his fingers through hers. “Do you really think mermaids are an offense to evolutionary theory?”_ _

__She let in a long breath, unappreciative of the bait. He was angry, though, and the choice was to take it out on her or the ocean. And she was the more deserving target. “I think that there are truths easier to accept if we attribute them to the fantastical.”_ _

__“Temptation,” he mused, toeing the sand with the edge of his shoes. “If a man can blame a mermaid for pulling him out to sea, he won’t have to take responsibility for his own actions.”_ _

__“That’s all the theological concept of temptation is, Mulder. It’s a name we give to a yearning so desperate that it must be a sin.”_ _

__“Is that what absolves you of your sins?” he asked. Her eyebrow arched and his gaze trapped her in its pull. “Are we simply tempting each other towards pretty untruths to distract from the bullshit of this unending journey?”_ _

__“What we do to each other isn’t a sin,” she breathed, raising her chin confidently. “And all journeys end, Mulder. We don’t always get to decide how.”_ _

__“I didn’t bring you out here expecting you to cave to the one I want.” He took her wrist in his hand and held it gingerly – a stark contrast to how he had gripped it during their argument. “Or because I thought being so far from home would trick you into believing unbelievable things.”_ _

__Since they made love the first time, she knew Mulder had been clinging to something she wasn’t ready to give him. Focusing on nostalgic cases, at odds with himself and desperate to hang onto the shredding fabric of their lives, no doubt convinced him she hadn’t outgrown him. She wrapped her free hand around the one that clutched her wrist and held him to her, the cold wind whipping her hair against her face in an agony she could no longer evade._ _

__“Then tell me why you did bring me here.”_ _

__He drew his eyes from her and to the roll of the ocean. “Because I can’t do this without you.”_ _

__In her heart, she’d known all along. He didn’t drag her along with the belief he really would find a mermaid._ _

__He brought her here to hold his hand when he inevitably didn’t._ _

__His sincere need for her compounded a truth she was growing too exhausted to deny. She was never a siren seeking his destruction. The way their souls spoke to each other effortlessly erased the preordained purpose of her assignment to the X-files and replaced it with the ability to bravely face the monsters that defined their journey, side by side._ _

__Scully raised her hand to cradle the back of his neck and sought his eyes for permission or forgiveness. But the reality was she didn’t need either. The permission had long ago been granted, and they had nothing between them to forgive._ _

__He leaned into her, slowly at first, but when she didn’t pull away, he filled the space between them with lost time. Mulder’s lips met hers and her eyes fluttered shut. His soft and cold skin worked benevolently against hers. His tongue slipped between her welcoming lips, capturing her, languishing in the sweet taste of mutual desire. The stark light of day shone down upon them, and Scully thought about mysteries that didn’t have to stay undiscovered._ _

__She pulled from his lips, her fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck, and he rested his forehead against hers._ _

__“If we leave now, we can get back to my place before dark,” she promised. He wrapped his arm around her as they turned their backs on Poseidon’s blows, gale winds, and a wine-dark sea. There were still wars to be fought, squalls ahead, and a journey that did not promise a safe end. But as his body pressed to hers and their lips found each other again, they also captured the potential for a truth they might never find but hoped for anyway – a happy ending._ _

__Then he took her hand and guided her safely home._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I have never been to the Outer Banks. Information on wildlife was sourced by Google and locations utilize artistic license.  
> References to the Odyssey are sourced through multiple translations.  
> I have not read the Odyssey nor Ulysses since high school, which was approximately 300 years ago, so please forgive any inaccuracies.
> 
> Additional Notes:  
> The two flash-back quotes used are from "Here Be Dragons" and "Fight the Future."  
> It is not necessary to read "Here Be Dragons" to completely follow the story, but I would still recommend it.
> 
> Thank You:  
> I only wrote this because of the amazing feedback I received for "Here Be Dragons" and requests for continuation. While this didn't quite turn out the way I intended and does not follow entirely the same tone, I sincerely hope everyone still enjoys it. I appreciate everyone who takes their precious time to read my writing and comment more than words can explain.


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